


In Other Words; I Love You

by afinecollector (orphan_account)



Series: Not Waving but Drowning [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Brothers, Epilepsy, Gen, Holmes Brothers, Janz Syndrome, Late night telephone calls, University!Lock, epileptic, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9317591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/afinecollector
Summary: Sherlock contacts Mycroft from his study desk in his university dorms, seeking comfort. Mycroft sees through him, as always, but offers what is wanted - sort of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading these crappy little updates - and sorry that I haven't updated yet for No More Heroes. I am writing a chapter; I need to get it perfect in my head before I can post, as things are beginning to wind up to the conclusion of the story. Fear not, I have plans for a Johnlock-smooshfest follow up!

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
I was looking on the Epilepsy Organisation website. I think I want to try Acetazolamide.   
Research it, tell me what you think. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
I have heard positive results have been gained in pharmaceutical research about treating seizures with diuretics. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
It’s a diuretic? I didn’t see that in the notes. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
Well, little brother - who would have imagined we would reach a stage when you could urinate yourself into seizure freedom?

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
Not funny, you fat prick. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
It was not intended as a joke, Sherlock. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
Hard to work out when you’re not being a dick, though, isn’t it? 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
Are you not supposed to be completing your thesis at the moment, little brother?  
What happened to you graduating with honours as a Chemist? Surely you have knowledge by now of all the medications available to those who suffer the effects of seizures; had you not researched it yourself before you put it to me for consideration?

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
Fuck off, I’m busy. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
Is your current medication not working well?

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
It’s fine. 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
Would you tell me honestly if that wasn’t the case?

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
You know I would.

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
Do I know that, though? I never imagined you would turn to heroin, but look which path that led us down.

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
At some point or another, you’re going to have to stop throwing that back in my face. 

 

**ONE MISSED CALL FROM MYCROFT  
ONE MISSED CALL FROM MYCROFT   
ONE NEW VOICEMAIL**

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
I will stop throwing it back in your face when you become trustworthy again. 

 

**THREE MISSED CALLS FROM MYCROFT  
ONE NEW VOICEMAIL**

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
This is silly, Sherlock. 

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Sherlock   
I like how it’s only silly when I’m the one ignoring you.

 

ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft   
Answer your phone. 

 

 

 

Sherlock held his phone in his hand and waited for the inevitable ring. When it came, he accepted it on the third chime and held the handset to his ear. “What?” He growled into the receiver. 

_”My intention wasn’t to upset you. Why must it always descend into arguments with you lately?” ___

__“I’m not arguing - I was simply pointing out that you never give me any slack. You complain when I do, when I don’t and when I’m lodged somewhere in between doing and not doing!” Sherlock moaned. “I just wanted to ask what you thought about a possible switch in medication, and you turned it into an attack on...what happened. It wasn’t supposed to be that, it was just a question.”_ _

___”And I just answered it, then you insisted upon becoming as insufferable as ever. Was there any need for the verbal insults? Fat prick, Sherlock - really?”_ _ _

__“You deserve it.” Sherlock huffed petulantly._ _

___”I deserve what you dole out a lot less often than you seem to imagine.”_ _ _

__Sherlock rolled his eyes and leaned back on his desk chair. With his free hand, he massaged his temple on the left side, screwing his eyes closed against the tension headache building there. “I’m not surprised you think that.” He said, his voice drawn out and disinterested._ _

___”Another headache?”_ _ _

__“I’m tired - I’ve been working on my final draft for four and a half hours and I can’t find my glasses.” Sherlock justified, and hated Mycroft for his uncanny ability to read his every inch in something as simple as a switch in his tone._ _

___”You’re still taking the simvastatin at night?”__ _

__“Of course I am,” Sherlock answered quickly, “Along with every other drug I get handed. My medication changes so often I can’t even keep up with what I’m taking anymore.” He groaned._ _

___”Whatever it is, is it controlling your tonic-clonics?”__ _

__Sherlock sighed through his nose. “Not well,” he admitted. “I gorked out in front of my roommate yesterday; it wasn’t my finest hour.”_ _

___”A few more weeks and you’ll be graduating; roommates will be a thing of the past. I sincerely hope you’ll be returning to stay with Mummy, and Dad, at home while you’re looking for a position?”_ _ _

__“Why do you hope that?” Sherlock asked, leaning forwards again. He rested both elbows on the desk in front of him and continued to rub at his temple. “So at least when I have a fit it’ll be amongst family?”_ _

___”That isn’t exactly what I meant by my remark, no - but now that you mention it, it wouldn’t be the worst thing. If your medication isn’t working, you should be supported whilst you find something else that does control your seizures better. What about the myoclonics in the mornings, and when you get run down? Are they still as long-lasting?”_ _ _

__“Lately,” Sherlock admitted. He hated himself for being so honest with Mycroft, despite being angry with him in the same breath. There was no use lying to his brother, he knew that - sooner or later, Mycroft figured it out and Sherlock had learned quickly it was easier just to admit defeat before it dragged on too long to remember what it was he was hiding in the first place._ _

___”Well then, there is my case in point. Once you graduate, you should move home again.”_ _ _

__“Can’t I stay with you a while, in Mall?” Sherlock asked._ _

___”You and I couldn’t live together Sherlock, as well you know. My little brother you might always be, but getting along with you comes in peaks and troughs and I don’t believe I could stand to be around your temper twenty-four hours a day.”_ _ _

__“I don’t have a temper.” Sherlock defended. He dropped his hand, it was doing nothing to soothe the ache, and rolled his neck from side to side._ _

___”You do when you’re high.” ____ _

____Sherlock twisted his mouth in annoyance. “I haven’t been high for months.” He snapped._ _ _ _

_____”How am I to know? You contact me when you’re lonely, Sherlock, and at no other point. You’re lonely right now or you wouldn’t have picked up the phone. You’re bored, on the cusp of losing your willpower, and you’re alone…”_ _ _ _ _

____“Piss off, Mycroft.” Sherlock dragged the phone from his ear and clicked the call off sharply. He threw the handset down onto his desk and cupped his head in his hands with a sigh of annoyance. Mycroft was right, of course. He did feel alone; Victor had taken a weekend break somewhere top secret and Sherlock had been left with work to finish and nothing else to occupy his mind. He was desperately lonely, and Mycroft could always see through him. And he hated him for it._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Mycroft  
Take your medication, put away the books, and get some rest. _ _ _ _

____ _ _

____Mycroft never said ‘I love you, Sherlock’. It wasn’t within his vocabulary, just as it was not in Sherlock’s nature to say the same phrase aimed at Mycroft. But Sherlock did show love; he would call, he would text, he would ask for Mycroft after seizures, request Mycroft’s name be given as next of kin information on everything that required such an entry. But Sherlock knew to look deep into Mycroft’s messages and to listen to his tone when speaking to him was to hear the words ‘I love you’, despite the fact that he would never be able to say them. Mycroft’s love was shown in the way he answered every call and text message of Sherlock’s; in the way he showed up to every hospital bed, accompanied Sherlock to neurological reviews, and sent cars when they were required to drag the boy from sticky situations._ _ _ _

____Being a Holmes might come with an education in communication and general knowledge of all things far fetched, and a singular skill to appear to know everything, but it did not come with the ability to drop one's guard and just be honest. Or, it did, but not in a conventional sense, which, in itself, was exactly like a Holmes._ _ _ _


End file.
